Conversation While Otherwise Distracted
by goodlycreatures
Summary: Matters take a steamy turn for Rose and the Tenth Doctor, but they just keep talking and talking and talking... Also, The Doctor and Rose answer fans' letters.
1. Talking

**Conversation While Otherwise Distracted**

_**Or, Sermo cum Coitus**_

_**Or, Girl Interrupted**_

_**Or, As You Like It**_

**by Goodlycreatures**

Rated "M" for "Could Be Considered Disturbing"

With heartfelt thanks to the beta-readers: MrsMalContent, and Ganzir & Neti

As ever, these characters are on loan, I do not own.

"_Why do characters seldom talk while making love or having sex?" This is the question Neil Gaiman posed in the introduction to his short story "Tastings". The following story is possibly the reason why. Features the Tenth Doctor and Rose quite late in the second series._

* * *

"Are you sure? Because I don't know what Sarah-Jane told you, but the stories can get rather _distorted_ with the telling. Well, I _say_ distorted. Embellished. _Elaborated. _I'd say to Sarah-Jane, I'd say, 'You're getting all _reportery_ on me. With all your reporting. Ness. Reportingness. Reportingnessedly. Yes.'"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, _some_ of them are true, obviously. Well, I say _some. _Most. Mostly some of them. Hmm. Where was I?"

"It's fine. And she told me. She had diagrams and everythin'. Ya don't half have a complicated back-story. Now help me with the zip: it's always gettin' stuck. That's it. Those are just elasticated. Whoops, steady on: I'll want them later."

"Huh."

"Wha'?"

"There's all this brown hair."

"Blimey, not a lot gets past you, does it?"

"Well, I just expected it to be more _blonde_. You know, 'As Above, So Below' as me old mate Trismegistus sort of said."

"Ya seriously thought it was all the same? Seriously? Remind me to introduce you to Mr. Nice'n'Easy some time."

"I was surprised."

"And you name-dropped some roman guy starin' at my crotch!"

"Greek, actually. The locals thought he was a god. People in your time tend to think he was fictional. Nice bloke: good with his hands. Although. Bit of a fibber."

"Stop talkin' 'bout gods! Can we have some _focus_, please?"

"I recall Leela-"

"Oh m'god!"

"…Leela was a brunette in _every_ respect. Wonderfully shaggy thatch: like licking a woolly mammoth. Where as, the _second_ Romana was bald and smooth as a Sontaran. Used to go off like a firecracker. Romana, that is. Can't speak for the Sontarans. Though, there was this one time…"

"That was weird."

"Oh, it's just this twisty thing I do with my tongue."

"Nah, when ya said 'Woolly mammoth', you sounded diff'rent. Deeper, darker. _Fruitier._ Like an ad for hot choc'lit."

"Oh, that's my fourth body impersonation. _Like it?_ Haven't _really_ got the teeth for it now. I had tremendous teeth, I had. And nose. _Boy_, what I could get that nose into. I'd have Leela half way up the time rotor. Did I mention she was a savage? Most remarkably strong thighs. Once cracked a coconut clean in half. Often feared for my life while giving her a licking. Did I mention the woolly mammoth?"

"If you compare me to a woolly anythin', I'll crack ya a new one."

"Carried these Janus thorns round with her. _Terrifyingly__poisonous_, but just a pinch had the most astonishing priapic qualities. _Hours and hours and hours_. One of the advantages of travelling outside of time: never having to worry about missing breakfast. How's that?"

"Yeah, that's good. More… _that's_ it. Use just the tip of your finger to… Mm-hmm, that's it. Just press lightly… Did I ever tell you what nice fingernails you have?"

"Do them myself. Bit of an art, really. Learnt how to do them from a chap in Venice. Nice chap, lovely hair; swapped a few helpful notes about Ren- iiight, right, right, _not mentioning that_. I'm going to flip you over, now, okay? Try not to knock the Quimulator Switch."

"The What-ulator Switch?"

"_Quimulator Switch_. It switches the Quim Stream from Lime to Starboard."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Try asking a Quim. Okay, this may feel a little warm."

"_WHAT IS THAT?"_

"Gel."

"Where'd _you_ get gel from?"

"Console."

"_Are you telling me I've got TARDIS goo in me!"_

"It's conductive gel! It's sterile! Mostly."

"And it's TARDIS goo! Is this some sort of Time Lord thing?"

"As I recall, you were quite happy to have the TARDIS inside you once before."

"That was different! I looked into the heart of the TARDIS. It was a glowy _energy_ thing! There was no conductive gel! It did _not_ go squelch!"

"Ooh!"

"Do _not_ subtly change the topic!"

"Aah! Urh! Yeep!"

"Ha! You like that, do ya? Well, guess what: _Mickey_ was a fan, too."

"Ooo. Ah. Oh. I'm not sure I _want_ to enjoy something Ricky the Idiot enjoyed. It makes me feel less like me and more like him. And by that, I mean a semi-articulate articulated pine cone."

"It's muscle control. I just squeeze and lift. Read an article, didn't I."

"Ooh. Ooh. Don't stop doing that. Definitely, don't. Don't. Don't stop. Don't. Okay, stop. So, Mickey was your first?"

"Well that's a big assumption."

"What, that Mickey actually knows one end of a female from the other? That he got the right orifice more often than not? That he never compared you to a particularly attractive auntie? From what _I've_ seen, he was only _vaguely_ aware you were even _possibly_ recreational."

"Hey, leave Mickey out of this. He was very considerate."

"Well, Captain Yates was _very considerate_, but I never tried doing the two-back tango with _him_."

"Who's Captain Yates?"

"Mike Yates. Nice bloke. UNIT, but had some funny ideas about freedom fighters. Fancied the Brigadier like _mad_. Right hand man, actually. Rather wanted to be 'both-hands man', if you get my meaning. It was always 'Yes, Brigadier. At once, Brigadier. Three-rounds-rapid into the energy-being, Brigadier.' Poor chap, really."

"Okay, it's real nice learning about ya mysterious past and stuff, but can we discuss your gay friends AFTER we're done here, yeah? … Actually, that works. Keep doing that. More pressure. That's it. _What just happened?"_

"The Quim Stream went Peppermint."

"What?"

"You bumped the switch."

"What happened to 'Starboard?'"

"It's a very sensitive switch. Perhaps you sort've did a _coded_ bumping?"

"You're the one doing the bumping. And now all I can taste is _peppermint_."

"That's not right."

"Nah, don't worry: Mickey used to say that, too, but it's looked like that since I was twelve."

"No: Peppermint. It should be more a sweet aniseed."

"Then why's it called peppermint?

"It's a Time Lord thing."

"I wanna see your face: I'm going to switch over. You got a cushion or somethin'?"

"_This_ bit of the console is quite soft. I'll move the tea tray. I recall _Ace_ was rather partial to the tea tray. Said the pain helped her forget. Odd girl. Said the _oddest_ things. Well, I _say_ girl_… _Actually, I remember one time she said, 'Sometimes, Professor, I could just put this baseball bat right where the sun don't shine.' And _I_ said 'I know somewhere we won't be disturbed.' And_ she _said-'"

"All right! That'll do. Bloody hell, all right. Just… all right already. Okay…"

"Ta-da!"

"Jeez, is that bit of you _normally_ green?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's just the conductive gel."

"Wow! I should give you a nickname… Oh! Oh! Yeah! _Ten-Inch!"_

"What? Well that's not very obvious, is it? I mean, it could refer to _anything_."

"Yeah? Got more than _one_ ten-inch body part, have ya?"

"Elbow to wrist? Ankle circumference? Combined length of two index fingers and a thumb? Oh! Both ears, my nose and one lip! Lung! Liver! Foot! See: It could get _very_ confusing."

"It's just a _name. _Ah. Stroke gently. Gentler. _Gentle_! It's a sensitive area."

"Is that better? Hmm. 'Ten-Inch'? Ah, unlike the number six version of me, of course."

"Was that the one with the celery stick?"

"No, you're thinking of number five. My cricket and public school boy days. Tragic, really. Can't imagine what I was thinking."

"You had a thing for public school boys? _Do they usually hang that low?"_

"Public school boys?"

"No, these."

"I'm relaxed. And it's warm in here. And Turlough was a mistake. Sour as lemons and twice as bitter, as a clever girl once said. Nope, number six was the one with the patchwork coat, the cat pin, and the _enormous _chip on his shoulder. I'd walk around like it hung below my knees, but in reality it was practically concave."

"Really? So not much went on, then?"

"And you should have seen Peri. Made me want to cry. No wonder I was so grumpy."

"Just twist 'em lightly. Now harder. Hey! _They're not radio dials!_ Peri?"

"Curvy. Looked good in a bikini. Nipples like strawberries."

"Shape or taste?"

"Best served with cream."

"_Get you, tiger!"_

"Yes, probably. Tried to throttle her once."

"No!"

"Mmm. Auto-erotic asphyxiation. She completely misread the situation. You know, you can do that thing with your tongue again."

"This?"

"Ow! That was teeth!"

"Ya like?"

"No, no, no-no no. Well, yes. Just reminded me of this thing this chap used to do."

"You had a _bloke_ do that?"

"Just the once. It was kind of a crazy time. His goatee used to tickle."

"You 'ad it off with a bloke with a _GOATEE_?"

"He kept it particularly well trimmed."

"Well, you just keep unfoldin' like a flower, don't ya?"

"Is this going to be a problem?"

"Not if ya keep doin' that, it won't."

"Learnt it from _him_, mostly."

"Guy with the goatee?"

"Yeah. It was all sort of a master-slave thing with him. It was our crazy academy days. Cool Gallifreyian nights that lasted forever – literally, until we got that temporal storm sorted. Mmm. The ghost light of Mutter's Spiral playing soft moirés on his goatee. The susurration of the time groves."

"So which were you?"

"What? Sorry, I was twenty-seven thousand light years away."

"And again, FOCUS! Master! Slave! Which?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. Neither. Not _altogether_ certain we were singing from the same hymn sheet. Different volume, I'd say. Well, different library, really. He never got over it. Stalked me for _years_. It was always Axons and Chronovores with him. Hmm. But we'll always have Jodrell Bank."

"So, troubled then, was he?"

"Yeah, but he really knew how to get pain from pleasure."

"Don't you mean the other way round?"

"Probably. Do you mind if I use this?"

"Do I _want_ to know what that is?"

"Nah. Best not, really. Just let me know if it starts singing."

"Is singing a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Depends who you ask. Nyssa found it very off-putting, but I always like to think Liz was a fan. Used to do this thing with her hair. Third nipple."

"That _ain't _a nipple."

"No, no. _Liz_. Had a third nipple. Oddly, not where you'd think."

"You got that look in your eye."

"_What_ look?"

"That far away, slightly dirty look. You're thinking about her."

"Who?"

"Her. Them. Your _girls._ Nyssa. Or Liz. Or Barbara or Zoë. Or Polly, Tegan, Romana, Ace, Jamie, Katarina, Mel, Sara, or any of the other ones!"

"Not true. And Jamie's a boy."

"Whatever. I imagine, you put him in a skirt, it'd make no difference to _you."_

"Ah, about that…"

"Hmm…"

"And never Mel. Never! Yikes! All that carrot juice nonsense."

"Well, obviously I'm boring ya, if you have to think about all tha' lot."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, not at all. See. Still very interested. Is it singing yet? You'll sort of _feel _it more than anything."

"Not ye- Oh, wait, _that_… oh, yes. It is, now, def- Hey! Is _that_ you, too?"

"…"

"Well? A smug grin is not an answer!"

"…"

"I'm just sayin', I hope ya used conductive gel. And you might need to stretch it a bit, _Ten-Inch_. Oh. I think I bumped the Quim Switch, again."

"Ah, actually that's me, this time. Sometimes my sweat smells of sweet aniseed. You must have noticed before?"

"I thought you didn't sweat?"

"Of course I sweat! How else can I look masculine in a sharp, well-tailored pin-stripe shirt?"

"Not sure how I can break this to ya, but 'masculine' is not one of your, like, defining characteristics."

"I thought THIS would have been a clue."

"Well, that IS nice, but that singin' thing-a-me does pretty much the same job, and I'm not even certain what IT is."

"It's a girl. A little bit boy. But mostly a girl. Like a good song. Isn't that right, ol' girl?"

"_I can't be knowing that!"_

"Anyway, what do you mean 'Not masculine?"

"Come on: slim, fine features, soft lips, good nails. You ain't exactly Mr. Universe, are ya? The last one of you on the other hand, he made it in spades."

"Him? _Big Ears?_ So, was it the leather coat that did it for you, or the submariner brush-cut?"

"I'm just sayin'."

"Or the northern accent. Because nothing drives the ladies wild like a broad northern accent. _'ow bowt you 'n me louk wahr this arlee-in thing-gis bin?"_

"That was _terrible_! You sounded nothin' like that! Oh m'god! You're _jealous_! Of _yourself_. That's certifiable, that is. Oh, and you've slipped out."

"No, you moved up."

"How can I? I'm right up against the time rotor as it is."

"Leela liked it up there. Said she vibrated in a very pleasing way."

"I think there's too much conductive gel. And you already mentioned Leela. Iron thighs, 'pparently. Really don't think you should be mentionin' her. Or the others, for that matter. It's just us now, right?"

"Made love in complete silence. Think it was her jungle warrior nature. Avoiding the wild creatures and all that. Her tribe were called the _Sevateem: _descendents of a planetary_ survey team_. Gedit? 'Mazing, really. I'd say, 'You can survey _my_ team any day', but she'd just look at me with those big brown eyes – or were they blue? There was a thing with a thing. Huh. But at any rate, _gosh, _their central computer was _as mad as cheese_. Thought it was a god. Apparently all _my_ fault. And _I'd_ say, 'If you want to see a god, check this out.' Very impressionable. Never a lady, but _what_ a woman. Now _Romana_ was a lady. We'd go punting."

"Blimey, it's like yellin' down a black hole with you, innit? I migh' as well be that _bitter pill_. Right, I'm just going to climb down, okay? I think I've got a permanent console impression on my back. Can you get the thing out of me?"

"This thing?

"Yeah, and stop wavin' it 'bout. An' the other thing. That's it. Right, gimme me a hand down. _Not there!_ Oi, watch those fingers don't go any further, sailor."

"Better?"

"Yeah. Now, you just lie down like that-"

"The Temporal Gris Regulator is sticking into my leg. And I'm going to get a funny grid pattern on my back."

"You shouldn't have left it out, then. _And_ you shoulda put your coat down. Suck it up, soldier, and keep your knees flat."

"Actually, I think I've never seen you from this angle before. Oh. Did you know your inner thighs have turned _green_? Don't worry: it will wash off. _Well_, I say 'wash', I mean 'scrape'. Well… _Eventually_. Given patience. And a solvent… HEL-LO!"

"Thought it was time to get down to the nitty-gritty, like."

"The Temporal Gris Regulator is still sticking into my leg."

"Shut up about the damn green regular-thingy and lift your hips."

"That's good. Real good. I mean, really, really, REALLY good. Yep, that's it. Oh… I may just sing a little."

"Huh. You and your 'old girl' can do a _duet_."

"I know a song about a lady in red! She dances cheek to cheek!"

"Chris De Burgh? Blimmin heck, that ain't right."

"I'm the Oncoming Storm!"

"Steady on, cowboy. No need to get carried away. I need you to last a little longer."

"Actually, what's with the soldier-sailor-cowboy motif? I mean, really. It's just a little off-putting. Although, not entirely unwelcome. Huh. Were you thinking about Captain Jack? Speaking of whom, are you familiar with the Reverse Cowgirl position?"

"You obviously are. Do I even wanna know _why_ you associate Captain Jack with a Reverse Cowgirl?"

"Well, Reverse_ Cowboy_, really, but the principle's the same."

"Like this?"

"That was a fast spin."

"It's my specialty."

"You have a very attractive back, you know? Well, not bad."

"Well, that didn't take long!"

"No, I just mean, as backs go, yours is particularly nice. But I may have seen nicer. On, um, someone. Once. French. I imagine. There may have been castanets. It was very confusing."

"Oh, I suppose you'll be wanting to compare my _other_ body parts to French tarts _again, _as well. French hussies who should have kept their pushy-up bosoms and fireplaces to themselves, eh? Callin' me _child, _like she was so _flippin'_ wonderful. _Oh, I'm the most accomplished woman who ever lived! Oh, I go all wet for a man on a horse! _Slut."

"Have I ever mentioned how I just open my mouth and words come out?"

"You do want to finish this, right?"

"Very soon, I suspect."

"Hey! I'm just getting started! Is this what it was like for the others? Did you tell them time is relative, and really it lasted all night? Well, I _ain't_ the others!"

"I think something else is about to open and come out…"

"…"

"…it was that little rolling thing you did with your hips. Sorry. Really. I'm very, very sorry. Erm, did you know your eyes are glowing? Hello? Your eyes are doing that _thing._ Leaking streams of golden light? That _may_ not be good. Um, very important, now: try not to see the whole of time and space. Or every single atom of my existence. DEFINITELY try not to divide them. Rose? Rose?"

"Doctor, it's filling me. I'm not sure I can keep it all in. I can feel every atom of my being through all of time and space and peppermint. They're all moving. I don't think I can hold back the fire…"

"Oh, that's normal. You'll want a wash with a wet cloth, I expect."

"Help me…"

"Perhaps if you just sort of roll to the side. There, see, not to worry. Ah, excellent: your eyes have gone back to their regular colour. Um, they were green before, right?"

"What WAS that?"

"Fantastic! Romana used to say exactly the same thing."

"It's going now. I feel… warm."

"And _I'm_ starting to freeze. This floor is _very_ cold."

"Doctor, I can feel the galaxy turning. I can hear the dark cores of stars singing to one another. Everything moves! Such a dance..."

"My fault. Comes with being a Time Lord. Now, how about some tea and toast? Oh, that's right: Barcelona!"

* * *

_Next…_

_The Doctor and Rose answer fans' letters_


	2. Letters

**The Doctor and Rose Answer Fans' Letters**

_**Or, Nota ut Coitus Terminus **_

_**Or, Blood on the Water**_

_**Or, As You Like It**_

**By Goodlycreatures**

* * *

"Gosh, it's a _huge_ pile this month, Rose. Hugely, hugely huge! Come on – let's have 'em!"

"Yeah. Can't see why we're doin' all this, Doctor. It'll take forever."

"Ah! What's _time_ to lords of time, eh?"

"Yeah, 'bout that…"

"The letters!"

"Hmm. Well, reckon I should divide 'em into the usual piles?"

"What, obsessively technical questions on the left, romantic propositions on the right, _with_ the separate pile for Captain Jack; death threats on the console, and throw the rest into the air?"

"Somethin' like that. Oh hey: this one's from that Master fella. Wha'dya think _he_ wants? Last one he sent went on and on about your academy days. Remember?"

"Yeah – all that stuff about '_when the universe was young and still smelt of freshly baked bread.' Never_ got him. All right: what does he want?"

"Um, okay, here goes. 'Dearest Doctor. I trust this missive finds you mostly alive.'"

"Hmm, good start. Like the 'missive' bit. Very him."

"Anyways. 'It has occurred to me I never fully extended my thanks to you for assisting me with the end of that messy _'Kronos'_ affair.' _Kronos?"_

"Ooo, that was _ages_ ago. Something about a small bird. Minotaur, time vortexes. It was an Atlantian tragedy. And he does a _lousy _accent. Anyway, carry on."

"Right. Um, 'I recognise it has been some time since we last 'crossed swords', as the poets say, but should you ever be temporally out of sorts, look me up. We'll always have the Eye of Harmony. PS. I have recently finished cultivating a most devilishly luxurious goatee.'"

"Strange chap."

"Yes – how ood."

"'Odd', Rose. It's 'odd'. Just let it go. Right-ho! Next!"

"This one's from… Oh. Nah, let's look at another."

"Who?"

"The name's Jeanne-Antoinette."

"Pretty."

"French."

"Interesting."

"Slut."

"Reinette!"

"Just let her go, Doctor!"

"What does she have to say? Does she send smooches? Girls like smooches!"

"_What _have I told you? Um, she says _blah, blah, blah, Seven Years War. Blah, blah, No longer sleeping with the King. _Oh, this just goes on and on. Um, lonely angel, worth the monsters… You get the general idea. Wants you to write back; says you never do."

"Well, you know, I keep, that is, I mean to, um, I keep _meaning_ to do something about that… Ur, maybe I'll just read the next letter."

"Ha!"

"Right, this one is from, huh… I can't read this writing. Weird… Oh, what's this: 'see footnote translation'. Ah, let's see… Oh! Right! Um, Rose, the Beast sends his warmest regards, and says he still plans to rise from the pit with his armies and wage war on God. Hmm. Well, that's nice, then."

"How…"

"Alright, say it…"

"How _ood!"_

"Happy?"

"Yep! But should we, you know… _do something?_

"Hmm. He might be a bit disappointed with what he finds. Ooo, this one's from _Mickey!_ So, how's old mick-mick, mucka-muck sticky-wicket Mickey? 'Oi, you two! I read that la'est story, like, with you two doin' the dir'y all over the con-sol, you fil-fy cre-churs. You, Doctor: keep your 'airy mitts off my Rose. Mickey.' Aw, how cute: he writes just like he talks! _Garcon d'idiot_!"

_"Mickey! Was! A! Considerate! Lover!"_

"How am I not considerate? I used conductive gel!"

"You filled me with your Time Lord – _stuff ­– _and now suddenly I can feel the galaxy turning, talk to birthing star stuff, and see all of time and space! Oh, and p.s., _I'm a flippin' Time Lord!_ I'll give you _Barcelona!"_

"Any more letters?"

"Yes! Every single one of your companions, either living or dead, send their regards and _beg_ you, yes, _beg you, _to stop shaggin' everything that moves! And grow some tact!"

"Ah, now, probably need to explain something there."

"What? That you're a _git?"_

"Well, it's just that, rather, well, the thing being, in the truth of it all, to recap in a slightly clearer version, it was just you. Hmm. Needed to be said, I think. Hmm."

"What about Leela and her magic thighs? Liz Shaw's third nipple?"

"Oh, well, _that_ all happened. Lips and tongues and fingers and toes and so forth. But you were the only companion I ever had."

"Doctor, you've travelled with _lots_ of companions!"

"You were the only companion I ever _had."_

"Oh. Ah."

"Quite."

"Next letter?"

"Next letter."

"Right. Here's one. Hang on. Oh."

"What?"

"Um, it just says 'Dear Doctor. Thank you.'"

"Just that?"

"Yes."

"No name or address?"

"No. Just that. 'Thank you.'"

"Ah. That's… Mmm. Yes."

"Yes."

"Rose, I think we deserve a break. Enough answers for one day, eh? Toast?"

"Thank you."

-End


End file.
